Saturday
by suslinkyle
Summary: SLASH StephenMiles. On his first free saturday in six months Stephen wakes up to some weird noises.


**Warnings:** m/m content, unbetaed

**Author's note:** English is only my second language and I couldn't find anyone to beta this fic so there will be mistakes. I also tend to write slightly OOC. I can't help it, really!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them and I certainly don't earn money with this...

_Italics are Stephen's thoughts_

* * *

**Saturday**

Loud noises. Annoyingly loud noises.

Some kind of music, if anyone ever dared to call that stuff music. More noise.

A screeching sound that made his teeth ache. And above all of that a very familiar giggling.

_Giggling should never sound **that** erotic!_

It all led a still rather sleepy Stephen to one possible conclusion:

It was Saturday. And his claiming-to-be-grown-up lover had escaped the arms of Morpheus (and Stephen's arms as well) to watch cartoons. The strangely tilted mattress and the fact that the majority of the comforter where drawn in that direction, meaning away from him, made Stephen easily locate Miles´s body at the food of the bed, were he surely sat cross-legged in borrowed boxer shorts, balancing his coffee cup.

_Should I give him another lesson about sitting too close to the TV?_

It wasn't really worth the effort. And the last thing Stephen wanted, was to destroy a rare and peaceful moment with a lecture that would very likely make him sound like either a parent or older than he was.

Wonderful, now he had reminded himself of that 'stupid-age-gap-thing' again, how Miles liked to call it. But look what He Who Was The Inventor Of That Phrase what doing right now.

Another screech, another giggle. Good morning.

Going back to sleep wasn't an option anymore, Stephen felt surprisingly well-rested and a more attentive earful of cartoon noises told him that it had to be the second show Miles was watching.

_Great. I'm not only developing a tolerance for the sound of hyper and alarmingly aggressive cartoon animals and can sleep through a whole episode, no, I can even discern them by short sound samples. How the hell do I even know it is the second show?_

A short look to the alarm-clock told him he was right, anyway. And the lack of desire to put a pillow on his face was a good sign.

Stephen slowly rose on his arms and half crawled forward until he was seated behind his obviously delighted lover, slid his arms around a thin waist and pressed a kiss on his neck.

Feeling rested, but not over-eager to rise from their warm nest, Stephen sat his chin on Miles' shoulder and leaned his cheek against his lover's neck, not bothering to push the wayward strands of dark hair aside. The end of the show made Miles turn his head and lean his cheek against Stephen's forehead.

"Good morning."

Stephen answered with another kiss on Miles' shoulder.

"Have fun?"

"Mmmmh."

"And there they say that watching cartoons doesn't have any effects on the brain."

A light slap against the side of his head. Alright, he deserved that.

Miles leaned forward to put his coffee cup on the floor. Stephen shamelessly used that fluent motion to plant a short kiss on every vertebra he could reach from this awkward position.

_Flexible. Nice!_

When Miles moved back again, Stephen placed the tip of his tongue on Miles' spine, the upward motion of the young man causing it to leave a thin wet trail on his back. Miles shivered and leaned back into Stephen's embrace, the arms of his lover tightening around him.

"I like this."

"Mmmmh."

"'Mmmmh?' My brain's obviously not the only one affected."

"Hey, I'm just trying to communicate here."

"Alright, alright. I would never question your highly developed communicational skills, I mean, they didn't make you a doctor for nothing…Hey! No tickling!"

Knowing that his young lover was more than just a little ticklish, Stephen decided that another tickle attack would very likely make Miles squirm and land them both on the floor.

As much as he admired his lover's flexibility, and very much so, he didn't share it.Stephen was in a very good shape, but somehow when he fell, he always fell like a stone.And that meant bruises and maybe even a slight limp, and wouldn't that be something for the colleagues to talk about…

/How did you spend your only free weekend in six months, Stephen/

/You know, I tickled Miles while he was watching cartoons and we fell from the bed. He rolled onto the carpet like a cat, and I was…a little less catlike…do you know what it looks like when awalrus slides from an ice floe into the water/

Therefore, no tickling.

There were other options anyway. More kisses, a tighter embrace, since Miles had moved slightly away from him while trying to escape his fingers. And that just couldn't be.

_Nobody should smell that good without a shower._

Stephen could really get used to this. All of it. And if he could get some of that coffee as well, life would be very close to perfect.

"How about breakfast?"

"Can you read minds?"

"No, I have ears, your stomach's rumbling."

"Maybe we could watch this first."

Miles half turned around to look at him in incredulously.

"YOU want to watch the Powerpuff Girls!"

"I like them."

"You don't. You hate everything that's colourful and annoying."

"Alright, I do. But the black-haired one reminds me of you, so I think I developed a certain affection, in a strictly scientific…"

"Will you shut up if I give you my coffee?"

A rare free Saturday, an arm full of Miles and over-sweetened cold coffee.

Life _was_ perfect.

And breakfast could wait.

**End**


End file.
